


Fever Dreaming

by skippy3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bronn's potty mouth, F/M, More characters to be added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating and warning likely to change, S8 Episode 5 divergence, Still annoyed at the massacring of Jaime's character., Trying to wipe the last two episodes from my mind.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 05:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20615477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skippy3/pseuds/skippy3
Summary: Canon divergence from episode 5 where Jaime succeeds in getting Cersei out. With some help from Tyrion, they reach an unlikely place of safety where Cersei can see out her pregnancy and Jaime can recover from his wounds. Torn between his love for Brienne and his guilt over his final words to her and trying to do right by his sister, Jaime's heart and mind war with themselves as he looks to a future he wasn't expecting to have.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been writing fan fiction for over a decade in various fandoms but this is the first story that I have had the guts to post so please be nice (but constructive criticism very welcome). I'm an avid reader on here and some of the stories just blow me away. Like the majority of you, I was left hugely disappointed at the cards Jaime was dealt with in the latter half of Season 8 and this was my way of coping when I started writing it after the finale. I thought I had the story mapped out but as I write the chapters, the characters take me off on another tangent. Brienne won't feature for a while but she is on her way and the Cersei/Jaime relationship is well and truly in the past but there will be some soul searching from the two of them as they face up to it. Title is from the Of Monsters and Men track, Fever Dreaming. I don't know, as I listened to it, some of the lyrics and they just seemed to apply themselves to my story.

She knew she was in shock. She was barely in possession of her wits to know that much. Shock at what had just happened to her army, to Euron’s fleet, to the shock and awe of that Targaryen girl’s horrific and tyrannical slaughter of Kings Landing, at Qyburn’s brains dashed out before her very eyes, the Mountain and the Hound facing off to one another as she decided this was not a battle she wanted to stay around for but most of all, the shock of seeing Jaime.

He had come back for her.

For her.

For one grave moment, she thought she may have misunderstood Maggy the Frog’s premonition. It wasn’t Tyrion who was the Valonqar, it was Jaime. It suddenly made sense, despite born immediately one after the other, he was still her younger brother. 

When he put his hands around her to draw her to him and not around her throat, she almost felt utter relief until she found him bleeding gravely. He brushed away her concern and she allowed him to lead her away, into the cellars beneath the keep and on and on. He obviously knew where he was going and she had no idea so she clung to his hand as if she would never let go. 

He stopped abruptly and she looked in the direction of his panicked gaze. Rubble had fallen over their exit, blocking it. He broke their link and made towards the pile, starting to climb to see if he could find a way out. She looked around and saw only a tomb. 

Her tomb. 

Hers and Jaime’s.

“No… no… not like this.” Of all the possible ways she could have died, never did she envision that this would be her end, under the Red Keep with rubble raining down on her from the Targaryen usurper’s destruction.

She heard Jaime rushing back to her and she turned to him.

“I want to live. I want to live. I want our baby to live, Jaime.”

Jaime shushed her. “Look at me.” He bent over slightly so he was at her height and held her face in his hands. “Cersei. Look at me” She finally quietened, “You and me are the only ones that matter. You and me and our child. Look Cersei, there’s some light at the top of that rubble, it’s a way out but we need to climb. Can you do that for me? For our baby?”

She looked at where he was pointing, saw the steep pile and light beaming through the top and nodded through her tears. Jaime brought her in for a quick hug and kissed her forehead before grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her towards their way out. More and more of the keep was falling and ominously coming towards them.

“We have to hurry, come on.” 

Cersei could hear the panic in Jaime’s voice despite the fact that he was carefully trying to hide it. 

“We’re almost there Cerse, just a little bit more.” 

Jaime had reached the top and she could see rays of light behind him. ‘We’ve done it’, she thought but the brick beneath her slipper rocked and dislodged her footing, making her slip back down. She cried out to her brother who shot his left hand out, grabbing the sleeve of her dress as the Keep came down around them. ‘Not like this’, she thought, ‘please gods, not like this’ as she looked at Jaime. If this was her last moment in life, she was going to die with Jamie being the last thing she would see.

———————————

The noise had been unbearably loud. And then there was nothing. No sound. Just silence. She wasn’t sure if this was the hallowed hells, that everything would unleash once she opened her eyes and so she kept them shut.

Then… 

Movement. 

Whatever she was lying on shifted and moved. Something was moving across her face. Startled, she realised it was a hand, not her hand, someone else’s, which meant…

“Cersei… please… open your eyes for me.” 

In a final desperate attempt to pull her from her potential tomb, Jaime had used just about every last drop of strength he had left in him to lift her up and over the summit of the rocks and to safety. She was lying on him, both of them lying head first on the downward slope.

“Cersei. Please. I need you to move.” 

She was reluctant to open her eyes but there was something off in his voice, something pained…weak. When she opened them, she realised she was positioned high over where he had been bleeding, his body fully taking her weight. She seemed to come to her senses and looked up. She could see daylight and hear the waves beyond the end of the tunnel. Moving off him, she was careful to place her hands on rocks rather than Jaime and he groaned in both pain and relief when the weight of her, although she was slight, was off him. As she moved, he was able to right himself but with some difficulty, she noted. She managed to scrabble down the reminder of the pile and from her vantage point could see the end of the tunnel.

“Follow the light and there’s a boat waiting for you.” 

She stopped dead in her movements, fear flooding through her.

You, not us. Cersei looked back from the light to look at her brother. He was pale and sweating and clutching at his side. He had made no attempt to make his way down or even stand. It was clear that Jaime thought this was the end of the road for him.

Fresh tears overlapped her existing ones. “No… no, Jaime not like this, no! You can’t leave me. This isn’t happening.”

“Cersei, please…go! I’m… I don’t think…I’ve haven’t got long left. I need you to get on that boat and get out of here.” His breathing was more laboured.

Cersei shook her head. 

“No. We go together or not at all.” 

As he started to feebly protest again, she rucked her skirts up and began to climb back up to him. She grabbed hold of his chin and forced Jaime to look at her.

“Listen to me, Jaime. I know you as you know me. We came into this world together and we will go out of it together. But the Gods have seen fit to look down upon us and we will survive today. But only together, my dear brother. I get on that boat, you get on the boat or neither of us will get on that boat. Is that clear?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, her hand was positioned under her armpit, “Now get up!”

Cersei tried to pull Jaime up but he was too heavy for her and so she glared at him until she saw him join in the effort. They scrambled down the rest of the rubble and joined the path out to the sea. Cersei had flung Jaime’s arm around her and he leant heavily against her but somehow she could take his weight…just. Adrenaline she supposed. She just had to get him to the boat then get the boat on the water and hope they got picked up by a friend rather than a foe. After seeing what that girl had done to Kings Landing, surely support for the new queen was rapidly diminishing? Cersei could see the small skiff in the distance and what looked like Euron lying against a rock, causing her pace to falter. 

“It’s ok. He’s dead.”

“How do you…” realisation dawned on her that it was Euron who had caused Jaime’s injuries.

“You had the gates closed. It was the only way in that I could get to you. I run into him.”

“I should have his head on a pike for what he did to you.”

Jaime wasn’t sure what he was running out of the fastest, life or patience. He had to get Cersei to the bloody boat.

“For the love of the fucking gods, Cersei. You aren’t the queen any more. Your reign is over. Your fucking keep has just fallen around you. You don’t even have a fucking stick to put anyone’s head on anymore.”

They had reached the boat and Jaime had all but collapsed head first into it. He managed to right himself and started to push the boat out. Realising he could not do it on his own, Cersei had gone to the other side and used her strength to push. Just like they did as children all those years ago on the Sunset Sea. She managed to get in, albeit with no grace whatsoever and managed to help Jaime the rest of the way in and settled him in the stern. Satisfied he wasn’t going to end up overboard, she took the oars and began to row them away. Slumped and half dead, Jaime looked up at his sister.

“I’m sorry… I’d row if I could.”

Cersei knew that even a fully fit Jaime would never be able to row, lest they row in circles all day long.

“It’s ok… but Jaime? Never speak to your queen in that way ever again. Or I will find a stick for your head.”

To her shock, Jaime started laughing. Jaime never did this. He would demure, grovel, pamper, apologise to her when she was angry with him. Told her things that she wanted to hear. He never laughed in her face.

“Sister, you’re not listening to me. You are not my queen anymore; you are nobody’s queen anymore.”

He let his head fall back so he was looking towards the sky. He may as well put a dagger to her heart. She had known deep down that he was lost to her when he returned from the Riverlands to find his baby boy dead. Where she refused to forgive Tommen for what he did, Jaime, when with her, had mourned him but Cersei refused again and again to answer his pleas for answers. She knew he had worked out what she had done to the Sept of Baelor and it had taken a lot of coaxing to get him back into her bed. Thinking about it, that was the first time ever in their relationship that she could remember chasing him, not the other way around. He always came round to her in the end, too afraid to lose her and once again ready to do whatever she bid. She’d always had that control over him. But then he had left her to go North, to honour his stupid promise to fight for the living. Their last row, where she had threatened him with the Mountain had left her seething. Jaime had never betrayed her like that, ever. Sending Bronn after him and Tyrion with Joffrey’s crossbow was the only thing that had simmered her anger… marginally.

Yet, he had come back to her. Come back to rescue her like a true knight of old.

Rowing, she looked at her brother. His unkempt hair and beard, his non descriptor clothes. With the exception of his hand, there wasn’t an ounce of Lannister about him. She realised with a start that she didn’t know him anymore. What had happened to him during the fight against the dead? What had happened to him up there full stop? Her birds had been useful to a point but when word got back that he hadn’t left Winterfell to return to her or march with Tyrion and his Targaryen bitch and was staying at the invitation of Sansa fucking Stark, her imagination had started working overtime at the meaning of it all.

She needed to know what she was to him now. She nudged him with her foot so he would look back at her, in the eye.

“If I am not your queen, then what am I to you, Jaime?”

“You’re my sister.”

Cersei knew she didn’t want to hear anymore but she needed to know.

“Is that all I am to you now? Just your sister?”

Jaime raised his head with some effort and met her eyes.

“Until the moment the gods take me, yes.”

With that last remaining effort, Jaime’s head rolled backwards as he finally lost consciousness.  
Cersei watched him as her grief welled up and up within her. She had to stop rowing as her grief expelled itself from her as she screamed his name into the air around them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei contemplates where to take her and Jaime and realises her options are limited. A surprising source comes to the rescue and Cersei is forced to face some uncomfortable truths about her relationship with Jaime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm keeping this at a T rating for now but bear in mind that everyone's favourite sellsword arrives in this chapter and we all know he as a potty mouth. There will be swearing and lots of it.

I see colour  
Raining down…

Cersei had her moment on the Blackwater Bay and as the fight or flight kicked in again, she eventually continued to row for what felt like hours down towards the Narrow Sea. She had no plan really, Jaime hadn’t revealed where they were going, just that there was a small dinghy waiting for them. She would look over to Jaime every so often. She had first thought, when he uttered that devastating statement, that he had bled out and breathed his last yet as she choked out her grief, she registered small movements from him from time to time.

She stole glances to her right every so often, looking back towards Kings Landing and saw Daenerys continue to rain fire on the city. Cersei may have had no love for her people but even this scale of destruction took her breath away. She doubted there would be anything left for the girl to reign over once she had finished. Cersei could understand Daenerys wanting to destroy the Red Keep but could not fathom why she was destroying the city and the people. The bells were ringing long before Cersei was dragged away by Qyburn and Ser Gregor. She had seen her atop the dragon, sitting on the rooftops whilst the bells rang out. And that was another thing, who had given the order to ring the fucking bells? She certainly hadn’t and the commanders where under strict orders not to ring them until they received word. Cersei mused that it was some Flea Bottom oik trying to save themselves.

In her musing, Cersei knew she had to keep rowing in order to get to safety. To get help for Jaime. It was funny when she thought about it. She nearly had Ser Gregor end him before he went North, she sent that Bronn after him and Tyrion in order to kill them and now… she had let go yet another chance to kill Tyrion at the gates when he came to treat and here she was now trying to formulate a plan to save Jaime.

Why?

Jaime she could understand. He was her other half. Together they made a whole. But Tyrion? He had murdered their mother… and their father. He had sided with the dragon whore. And yet on both occasions where she had the opportunity to kill him, she had stuttered.

And why had Jaime come back after their devastating row when he went north? He had come back for her and rescued her, yet not as her lover. Why had he done that? Once again, she wondered what had happened in the North. She knew the Night King had been defeated despite some dodgy tactics displayed by the living. Cersei had scoffed when Qyburn had debriefed her. The Northern forces obviously hadn’t trusted Jaime when he turned up at Winterfell’s gates. They could have used his seasoned and proven command and battle strategy. Sending the Dothraki charging into darkness like that…Her and Qyburn had had a good laugh at that.

Qyburn had heard from his little birds that Jaime had fought bravely with House Arryn and the knights from the Eyrie of all things and Cersei had been puzzled by this move by Jaime for a while. House Arryn?! Then Qyburn had found out that none other than that beastly cow had been in command of them and then it all made sense. Jaime had always had a soft spot for that lumbering thing ever since she had delivered him back to the Red Keep broken and crippled. She knew that Brienne of bloody Tarth loved her brother but didn’t think that it was reciprocated until she had seen them at the Dragonpit. That woman was not only wearing Jaime’s sword but had dared to lay her hand upon Jaime and heated words had followed between the two of them. Cersei hadn’t missed a trick when she saw Jaime furtively glance in her direction before turning back to the cow. She’d also been fully briefed by her spy in Jaime’s command group that she had been seen in Jaime’s tent at Riverrun the year previously and that he had somehow let her go after the siege ended. Not for the first time since he left her, Cersei wondered if Jaime loved that excuse of a woman in return.

It still didn’t answer why he had returned to her though. To try and save her. Had he listened to Tywin after all and that family came before everything else? She would have to wait until he woke to have that conversation. 

If he woke.

She continued to row and tried to work out what their best option was. Both the Crownlands and the Stormlands were traditionally loyal to House Baratheon. Daenerys and the bastard Snow would be on the north side so that eliminated north. The Stormlands is was then.

But where?

Everything seemed so far away. Sharp Point was insurmountable in their small dinghy and anyway, Lord Bar Emmon had been loyal to Stannis’ claim to the throne; she would find no aid at Sharp Point. She realised though that they had to stay on the boat. Over land meant dragging a half dead Jaime and she had neither the strength or the stamina to do that even if she wasn’t with child. Her only hope was to find a small village along the southside of the Bay and hope for the best.

Her eyes drifted again towards Kings Landing, becoming further and further away. The sky was awash with fire and smoke and every so often she saw the silhouette of that thrice damned dragon raining down yet more fire. Intermittently, green waves would send themselves skywards. Wildfire. This puzzled her at first - she had ordered Qyburn to use the remainder of Wildfire from the Battle of the Blackwater on the Sept - before she realised that this must have been long forgotten caches stashed by Aerys. She sometimes used to hear Jaime in the throes of a nightmare in the few times she didn’t kick him straight out of her bed. Sweating and shaking, he would mutter ‘burn them all’ over and over until Cersei would stroke his face while he calmed in his sleep like mother used to do when they were children. If Jaime was ever aware the next morning that he had had a nightmare, he never raised it with Cersei; it was unspoken that it was off topic. She had no real love for the city, but to see it crumble and burn was, she supposed, upsetting.

As she mused on the novelty of her feeling upset for something she had never had any real love for, she missed the fact that Jaime had returned to consciousness and was staring beyond her and the boat.

“Cersei” he managed to croak out.

Cersei’s eye immediately went to Jaime and she saw him weakly gesture with his chin towards something behind her. She stopped rowing and looking back, she noticed what appeared to be a small ship heading in their direction. There was no way they could out manoeuvre it. Her head snapped back to Jaime.

“What do I do?” There was only a mild tone of panic in her voice which on any other day, Jaime might have cared enough to notice.

“Nothing.”

At her look of disbelief at his response, he expounded further, “There is nothing we can do. Just hope they are friend not foe.”

Cersei looked at Jaime and closed her eyes, seemingly resigned to her fate as her brother was.

The boat loomed ever larger, the waves created by its movement making their small boat bob uncomfortably up and down and voices could now be heard. A call for a grappler went up and then a “careful, don’t wanna kill ‘em tryna ‘ook the boat, do we?” Cersei felt rather than heard the grappler drop behind her into the bow and then felt the dinghy lurch to the right and hit the side of the larger ship as the rope was pulled tight.

Cersei didn’t want to look up but the groan from Jaime caught her attention. It wasn’t one of pain. Following his eyes upwards, she saw a familiar figure hanging over the side.

“Jaime fookin’ Lannister. How many times do I have to tell ya? Only I get to kill ya. Understood?”

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. Sellsword, hero of the Battle of the Blackwater and now sea captain, it seemed. He shifted his glance from his old employer to his current employer.

“Your Grace.”

She looked up at the sellsword. He was friend, she hoped. She had given him enough gold to buy his loyalty.

“Ser Bronn.”

“Nice to see you both breathing. Now Jaime, why the fook are you lying half dead in a boat being rowed by none other than yer sister, when I last saw yer playing nice with the Lady of Tarth. Eh?”  
All Jaime could do was glare at Bronn and the shit eating grin on his face; there wasn’t much more he could do in his state and he felt rather than saw the glare that his sister was currently giving him. Bronn was clearly enjoying this moment.

Bronn, however, decided to help him out of the predicament he had just landed him in.

“Right, Your Grace, how’s about we get you and Ser Jaime on board and get you comfortable while we get you somewhere safe?”

Cersei gave one last glare at Jaime and nodded her assent but had no idea what to do next. She usually came aboard ships on a gangplank. Clearly this wasn’t an option. Bronn seemed to have read her mind.

“I’m sorry to say that we’re going to have to get you up by this here ladder. It won’t be the most graceful but we need to get yer safe, your Grace, and as quickly as we can.” Bronn was almost gleefully patting the rope ladder.

Cersei hadn’t climbed a ladder, let alone a rope ladder, since she was a girl pretending to be her brother but it was that or stay in the wretched boat. “Fine,” she ground out, “what about him?”

Jaime raised his head at that, piqued. It had always been ‘my twin’, ‘my brother’, Ser Jaime’ or ‘Lord Jaime’. ‘Him’ was a new one and one that didn’t promise any favours when it came to his sister. Rescue be damned, he was on her shit list, dying or not.

It wasn’t just Jaime who noticed the new term of address.

“Him, we’ll have to winch up, he looks in no fit state to be able to climb.”

Cersei just nodded, stood as lady like as she could in a bobbing boat and began to climb.

————————

After some manoeuvring, they got Jaime on board. He had been jostled somewhat and where the wounds had dried over, fresh blood began to ooze out. He was barely conscious. Bronn issued commands for the Lannister pair to be taken below deck to the captain’s quarters and Jaime to be placed in the bunk to await the Maester. 

“I’ll be down shortly, your Grace, I just need get this ship turned around and to make sure the crew know where they’re headed to. Yer not goin’ to kill yer brother now, are ya?”

Cersei gave her best withering stare before she followed the crew member assigned to showing her the way.

Whoever had sent Bronn on this errand to rescue the pair of them had obviously thought of everything as a Maester was waiting in the quarters ready to examine Jaime. Cersei suspected Tyrion. Tyrion had a soft spot for two things when it came to the Lannisters: Jaime and her children. She realised that if it was Tyrion, Bronn had switched sides again. Or had he? He could have left her in the boat. Her head was spinning, she didn’t know what to think anymore, she just knew that she had to sit down first and then work out a way to survive. 

For her babe to survive too.

As she found a seat at the captain’s desk, she watched as two men carried Jaime in as gently as they could and placed him on the bunk. Jaime was already unconscious again. The maester set to work immediately, cutting Jaime’s clothes away from him. As he was doing so, he looked over at Cersei.

“I’m Maester Lucas your Gra…” at this he trailed off, suddenly realising that he had no idea how to address Cersei and flushed furiously. She waved him off.

“It’s ok, Maester Lucas. Please concentrate on saving my brother.”

Maester Lucas bowed his head at her conciliatory pardon, something he knew she wasn’t known for.

“I’ll have to remove all of his clothes, you may want to leave the room to spare both your dig…oh...” Again he flushed. 

And almost winced, Cersei noticed. The whole thing was becoming absurd very quickly and Jaime’s life could be hanging in the balance. She would have to set his mind at ease if there was any chance to save Jaime. “Maester, please, concentrate on saving him. That’s all I am concerned about for now.”

The maester bowed and turned back to Jaime and began to cut away at Jaime’s clothes, making ‘hmming’ and ‘ahhing’ noises as he uncovered Jaime’s body. Cersei tried to see around the maester but with little luck. Her attention was soon turned by Bronn swaggering into the room.

“Right then Maester Lucas, will the fucker survive?”

Maester Lucas had obviously grown quite accustomed to Bronn’s directness from some point in the past as he only gave a subtle roll of the eyes.

“Ser Jaime’s injuries are grave, ser. It looks as though he’s been severely beaten, lost a lot of blood and has two stab wounds, one here around the kidney area, which I will need to open the wound further to check for internal damage and one here in the buttock.”

It took an instance for Bronn to register and then a further moment to lose it completely, bending over with mirth. “You mean to tell me he got stabbed in the arse?”

Cersei had had enough of the sellsword. “Enough Ser Bronn! Remember yourself!” She turned to the Maester, “Maester Lucas, will Jaime live?”

Bronn cleared his throat and did his best to behave as the maester nervously cleared his own throat. “Your gr…”

Cersei waved a hand, excusing him for the stumble.

“Yes, well. I’ll have to examine that side wound further as I said. If the weapon missed all the vital areas, and infection doesn’t set in, he should survive.”

Cersei drew in a breath and asked the question she knew Bronn and her were both thinking, “And if infection does set in?”

Lucas’ eyes dropped to the floor. “Ser Jaime is strong and I believe he has fought off infection before when he lost his…”

“That’s not what I asked.” She interrupted, bordering on irritability.

For the first time, Lucas noted there was a bite to Cersei’s voice. He anxiously wrung the bloodied cloth in his hand, “Ser Jaime could die.”

There it was in plain common tongue, she could lose Jaime after all. 

Again. 

Permanently. 

She was about tell Lucas to mind that that didn’t happen, when Bronn got there before her. “You better damn well make sure he’s still breathing after all of this, Lucas,” Bronn was jabbing his finger towards the young maester, “I told him once that I only get to kill him.” He turned to Cersei, a hard look growing in his eyes. “Stupid cunt charged that dragon currently destroying your keep to end this fookin’ war for you. Did he tell you that, hmm? Damn well nearly got me balls burnt off saving him from that one.”

Cersei looked at Bronn in amazement.

“He didn’t tell you that, did he? Was prepared to end his life for that dainty little crown of yours. And you of course. What a stupid fucker. I told him so too. I spent years with your brother and I could never understand why he was always so desperate to get back to you for. Then I realised what a tight leash you held him on. He was actually fookin’ scared of you.” As Bronn drew in a breath, Cersei opened her mouth to defend herself but Bronn carried on, growing angrier by the second, not giving her a chance. “And listening to him at night, watching him have night terrors. You did a right number on him, didn’t you, makin’ him believe this two halves of a one nonsense. You’re no better than the men me mother brought home and beat the shit out of her and me. Yet you didn’t hit him, no it was all up here weren’t it,” Bronn was pointing at his own head, “and down there.” He moved his hand down so his finger was now pointed at her groin. “You are fookin’ evil. Now, I ain’t sayin’ that Jaime is a fookin’ innocent but all the shit he’s had thrown at him is ‘cause of what he’s done for you, carrying out your fookin’ twisted deeds. Now, Lucas here, is going to save Jaime and he’s going to recover and you, my lady, will have that child in your belly and you will let Jaime be its father for once and I will ensure that that man lyin’ there will get to be that child’s father and get him back to the woman he loves. Because he fookin’ deserves to know happiness!”

Bronn took a deep breath and dared not look at Cersei. If he had, he would have seen the tears running like rivulets down her cheeks and her struggling to remain upright. As she finally collapsed into her chair, Bronn chased down the door to the cabin, trying to leave as quickly as he could. He stopped at the door and turned back to Lucas who was stood by Jaime's unconscious form looking both terrified and shocked.

“Do what you can for him, Lucas, and let me know when he’s all stitched up. I’ll come and sit with him whilst you see to our former queen here.” 

With that he left, leaving Lucas to follow his instructions whilst Cersei cried quietly behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Bronn and I know I can never do him justice. I thought it was a travesty that he was only in, like, three(?) scenes in S8. I realise that he's quite OOC here but I really like to think that he's not just about the money and the castles and he has actually grown fond of the Lannister brothers over the years. I heard that Jerome Flynn said at Comic Con that Bronn would kill Jaime if he had to but I just don't think Bronn would.
> 
> Cersei's thoughts on the tactics deployed against the Night King definitely echo my own.
> 
> Also, not a medical expert at all and definitely using creative license.
> 
> In my head, Maester Lucas is a young Rufus Sewell from the 90s.
> 
> Lyrics at the beginning from 'Fever Dreaming' by Of Monsters and Men.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bronn analyses his outburst and his feelings and Jaime goes under the knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right...ok...bear with me with where this is going. I started writing this after S8 ended and I was still in a bit of shock at what D and D had done with their character assassinations and so on. This story was birthed from me thinking 'what if' like so many of us have done after the last three episodes of S8. Where Davos tells Bronn to take the twins even surprised me when it popped out of my head but I'm going with it. Like I said, bear with me!
> 
> As ever, Bronn carries his own warning for his potty mouth.

I am open  
I am restless  
Let me feel it out  
Let it all come out

Bronn strode out of the commandeered captain’s quarters and took the ladder to the quarterdeck two at a time. He nodded to the captain and the crewman stood at the wheel as he headed straight for the back of the deck and promptly emptied his stomach over the side.

When he was satisfied that he was done puking, he leaned against the side, ’What the fuck are you thinking?’ he thought to himself as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, swiftly followed by, ‘where in the fucking hells did that pretty little speech come from?’

If he was honest with himself, Cersei scared him, although not as scary as she was with that fucking bodyguard of hers and that creepy cunt that was her Hand. He was briefly distracted wondering where those two were and then felt grateful they weren’t on the ship, especially with his ill advised and treasonous outburst that he had just spewed forth to his queen. 

Former queen, he corrected himself.

The bottom line was, Jaime was his friend. Ok, Jaime might need a bit of convincing considering their last encounter but he was still one of only two he ever felt he had. Tyrion being the other. As his mind warned him not to turn soft, he realised it was true. He really cared about the pair of them. Sure, they infuriated him at times - most times - but they paid him fair coin and yeah they owed him a castle or two but he still kept turning out for them, long after he could have bailed. Their employment of him had risen him in status to Ser Bronn of the Blackwater - never thought he’d see that day - and he led a comfortable enough life with the coin they paid him. He could have walked away at any time, especially after Tyrion disappeared but he didn’t. He had now worked for Jaime for far longer than he had for Tyrion and the bottom line was, he now saw them as more than a payday. It wasn’t the fact they owed him some castles either. Both brothers had relied on him, trusted him, respected him. They had never used him. Nobody else had ever treated him as such. Sure he had saved both their lives; saving Tyrions’s was far easier than saving Jaime’s and he still shuddered physically every time he thought back to that day of him launching himself at Jaime in front of that fucking dragon opening his jaws. What he did that day was instinctual, pure and simple. 

Protect his friend, not a payday. 

What he had said on that bank after was all bravado and bullshit. The Lannisters always paid well and he didn’t want to go ruining it if Jaime even got a hint of how Bronn viewed their relationship. No, better to keep him thinking he was nothing but a sellsword to protect his pay. 

But it hurt when Jaime when north without him.

And it hurt to see Jaime so grievously wounded.

And it scared the fuck out of him to think that Jaime might not make it.

Yeah, he may have taken Cersei’s payday and that damned crossbow of her spawn, but he always knew he wouldn’t kill either of the brothers. He wouldn’t let them know that, though. His gamble that Tyrion would remember his promise had worked out. Highgarden. Now wouldn’t that be a thing. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, Lord of Highgarden.

He was sure to remind Tyrion of his deal when Tyrion had approached him in the camp with that Davos bloke. Bronn had rode south once he knew that both Tyrion and Jaime had left the north and was mooching about outside of the tented city the northern armies had put up whilst they were awaiting further orders on attacking the city. He had watched Tyrion free his brother and had waited for the perfect moment to make himself known to Tyrion. Tyrion made the introduction to Davos and shook Bronn’s hand, promising him he would do what he could to honour his deal and then said farewell. Davos had arranged the skiff for Jamie and Cersei to escape in and then arranged one of his small smuggling ships and crew to give to Bronn to pick them up and get them out of there. “If they’re both fine, take them to Essos and leave them there with this,” he had said to Bronn, handing him a rather large bag of gold dragons. “If one of them is injured, mind, take them to Lord Gendry in Storms End.” He’ll make sure they receive care until they’re recovered.” 

Bronn was incredulous, “Storm’s End? Are you fookin’ jokin’? I’m goin’ to drop off the former queen mother who attempted to off every last one of Robert’s bastards to the last survivin’ one?”

“Aye, that’s what yer goin’ to do if yer need to.” Davos countered, “I’ve sent a raven to Gendry to pre empt any visit. He’s a good lad and he won’t send Ser Jaime away, not after the Long Night and he hopefully won’t kill Cersei on sight when he sees her with child. I’ve also took the liberty of sticking a maester on board. He’s a bit of a flapper but he’s a good healer.”

Bronn shook his head. “Hopefully?”

“Aye, like I said, he’s a good lad and he’ll do what I ask. He was born humble and despite the title, he’ll carry on being so. The Master-at-Arms there is one of my old men from the seige. He’s practically been running the castle since Renly was killed. He’s loyal to me and he’s been helping Gendry get up to speed with his new duties. You're to stay with them as once they’ve recovered, take them on to Essos and then leave. This is for you from Lord Tyrion.” Davos handed Bronn a slightly smaller purse. “Your fee.”

That had been only yesterday and now both of those purses were now safely secured down below as Bronn took a few calming breaths and looked back to where King's Landing was. The smoke billowed ominously into the air and every so often he spied the silhouette of that fucking dragon still raining fire on the city. Hadn’t that fucking dragon bitch had enough by now? Bronn had seen his fair share of horror in his life time but this…this was another level.

He was broken out of his reverie by the captain. Bronn acknowledged him with a nod.

“Ser Bronn. The winds have been kind and we are almost out of Blackwater Bay. Have you decided our course?”

“Aye Captain Wyke, set a course for Storm’s End.”

“Very good, Ser.” Wyke bowed his head and went to give his orders, leaving Bronn to continue to analyse his restless feelings.

———————

Immediately below Bronn, Maester Lucas was busy saving Jaime’s life. He had peeled off his clothes as delicately as he could. Jaime intermittantly gave a small groan now and again, the only sign that he was still alive. Lucas set about checking for wounds that could wait for mending and wounds that couldn’t. 

He suspected that Jaime had a few broken ribs judging from the bruising around that area and one of his cheeks looked suspect. The cuts on his face was superficial and would need a stitch or two; the stab wound on his buttock didn’t look dangerous and Lucas concluded that it was just a flesh wound and would also need stitching. The biggest concern was the wound in his flank. He would need to operate on Jaime now. He couldn’t wait for the ship to reach port, wherever that was going to be. He turned to Cersei.

“Um…” Lucas faltered but it was enough for Cersei to realise he was addressing her. When she looked at him, he continued, “I’ve determined that Ser Jaime has some superficial cuts to the face that will need treating and stitching, the same for the wound to his…er… buttock. I suspect he has at least two broken ribs, possibly three but my main concern is the wound to his flank. I will operate on him here on the map table. He can’t wait until we make port.”

Cersei took all this in. “By you doing this now, will my brother survive?”

Lucas clutched the bloody rag in his hand in his hand and stared at the floor. Finding his courage, he lifted his head and looked Cersei in the eye. “Your brother is gravely injured and until I see the state of the wound inside his body, I can’t answer that in the affirmative. What I can say for sure is that if we don’t do it now, Ser Jaime will surely die in the next day or so from that wound. If I can fix the damage inside, his life will be in the Gods’ hands as we pray for any infection to be held at bay.”

Cersei tried and failed to keep her sob of despair in and nodded at Lucas. Lucas explained that he was going to find Bronn to update him and prepare for the operation and left the Captain’s quarters.

Once alone, Cersei rushed to Jaime’s side and grabbed hand, placing it on her abdomen. “Did you hear all that Jaime? You must live. You must live for our child. Fight, damn you, fight!”

In a matter of minutes, Lucas returned with Bronn and two other men. They quickly cleared the table of its maps and poured boiled wine over the surface before wiping it down. Lucas then instructed the two men to carefully lift Jaime and lay him out on the table as he unrolled his medical instruments. Seeing Cersei’s eyes widen at the sight of them, Bronn took pity on her. “Perhaps my lady would be more comfortable in another room? It’s about to get a bit grim in ‘ere and I can’t be fussin’ over no lady passin’ out, especially in your condition.” 

Catching the stormy look on Cersei’s face, Lucas quickly stepped in. “Uh, your…” taking a cue from Bronn just now, he continued, “My lady, I would rather you weren’t here for this, we will keep you updated, I swear, and once this is over, I’d like to see to you as well, as you have had quite a day of it. Benjen, please take the lady next door and then come back to assist.”

Cersei hesitated for a moment before nodding and following Benjen out. At the last moment, she turned and looked at Jaime, “Please do what you can for him, Maester Lucas.” and then left.

Once she was away, Bronn looked to Lucas, “I’ve told Captain Wyke to make a course for Storm’s End. Ser Davos has sent a raven to warn Lord Gendry that there may be injured to take in so he should be expecting us. If the wind stays on our side, we should get there by dawn. Tell me what to do.” 

Lucas looked at Bronn in surprise, “I thought you said to call you when he was stitched up?”

“That was then, I’m stayin’. What do you need me to do?”

“If you want to stay, take off that ridiculous hand and grab hold of the other.”

“You want me to hold his bloody hand?!” Bronn looked completely affronted.

Rolling his eyes, Lucas countered, “Yes, I want you to hold his hand. Tell me if you feel pressure from him, it indicates how much he is aware of what’s going on. You may need to administer milk of the poppy if he comes round or stick that bit in his mouth if he insists on waking up. Now, if you don’t think you can do that, then I advise you to go and keep her gr…, Lady Lannister company next door!”

Seeing Bronn’s look of fear, he continued, “Aye, after your pretty speech earlier, I wouldn’t want to be alone in the same room as her either.” Lucas gestured to Jaime’s golden hand as if to say, ‘get going then’ as Bronn gifted him with a glare and did as he was told.

——————-

Jaime turned out to be a model patient and remained unconscious for the duration of the operation. Once his major wound had been stitched up, Lucas concentrated on his other injuries and then let his two assistants bathe and cleanse the rest of Jaime, put him in some new small clothes and gingerly returned him to the bed as Lucas cleaned his tools and then the table once it was empty. Bronn took a chair and placed it next to the bed before sitting in it.

“What happens now?” he asked Lucas, not taking his eye off Jaime’s unconscious and battered form.

“We wait, Ser Bronn. Either for him to wake up or not.”

“Well, how long is that gonna take?”

Lucas rolled his eyes as he placed the last of his now clean instruments away in his bag. “It’s not an exact science, Ser Bronn, but hopefully within the next day or so. If you’re going to stay there, you can be on fever watch. If a fever sets in, I fear Ser Jaime will be too weak to fight it and he’ll succumb to his injuries. I’ll be back soon after I’ve seen to the qu… oh for the love of all gods, what do I bloody call her now?”

Bronn looked at the exasperated maester and chuckled, “Given the circumstances, my lady or Lady Lannister will have to do for now.”

Lucas didn’t look as if he felt happy about calling the former queen that. “It just doesn’t feel right, not calling her by her… well, old, I suppose…title.”

“Lucas, what part of the last day has felt right to you?”

“Well, yes, I see your point. Right, I’ll be back soon.”

“Yeah, fuck off and see to her.” Bronn was back looking at Jaime. “And Lucas? Thanks, y’know, for trying save him.”

Lucas gave one last look at Bronn watching over Jaime and merely nodded, marvelling slightly at how close Bronn seemed to be toward Jaime for a supposed sellsword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei mulls things over and comes to a realisation.

Cersei didn’t have much room to pace in the smaller cabin next door to the captain’s but she was making a go of it nonetheless. After Benjen has shown her in, he had asked her if she needed anything before he left to help the maester with Jaime.

Now all she could so was wait.

The walls were thin, so she had heard they were headed for Storm’s End. Qyburn’s little birds had found out that the Dragon bitch had legitimised Gendry and installed him in the Baratheon seat. She was furious when she found out, how could her assassins have missed one of Robert’s bastards and one of the oldest ones from his reign no less? Still, it hadn’t mattered in the end, that old cunt Olenna had killed her boy, not some threat from a bastard.

Her hands moved instinctively to her stomach; could this babe keep her from her losing her head until it was born or would Gendry see it as an abomination and kill her anyway? She had nothing anymore to bargain her freedom for, no gold, no power - her fate would be in his hands. 

She decided that she didn’t like this feeling of vulnerability. She thought she had managed to shake it off years ago, when Robert had died and Stark was headed to the wall. Before Joffrey had him executed instead. And then again with the Faith Militant. Before everything went to shit. 

Bronn, though… Bronn had seemed quite determined to save Jaime and the child, which by extension would mean her as well for the next few moons. Both him and this Gendry were lowborn, perhaps Bronn could persuade him to leave her be. She could convince him that the killing of the bastards was all Joffrey’s idea and not hers at all and…

All this would be moot due to the one thing she had forgotten: the dragon so called queen was now sitting on her throne. If she had given legitimised Gendry and given him the Baratheon seat, that meant he would have bent to knee to her. 

That would be problematic in her negotiations for her life. 

And the babe’s. 

And Jaime’s.

With a sigh, Cersei took the lone seat in the cabin and clutched at her stomach. She was no longer queen. It hurt. It hurt a lot. She wasn’t fool enough to think for one moment that she was a good queen or a popular queen and Gods knew, Jaime was right when he said she was queen of three kingdoms at best, but she was still queen.

And now she wasn’t.

She brooded some more and tried to listen to the running commentary of Maester Lucas as he worked on Jaime, all the time willing Jaime to live. At some point, exhaustion set in and she must have dozed off as the next thing she was aware of was Maester Lucas before her, trying to get her attention, bloody rag gone and hands clean of Jaime’s blood. Once he was satisfied that he had her attention, he spoke.

“My lady, Ser Jaime came through the operation. He is still unconscious and not out of danger yet but he has got this far so we must hope and also hope fever doesn’t consume him.”

Cersei let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding and fought back the tears in her eyes. She may not be called a queen anymore but that didn’t mean she had to stop acting like one.

“His flank…the wound…was it as bad as you feared?” In truth, she was frightened to know.

“It was bad but not as bad as I initially feared. The important organ I was telling you about, it missed - just - but missed all the same. I have had to repair some internal damage and he’s lost a lot of blood but if the fever doesn’t come, I am hopeful about his recovery.”

“If the fever doesn’t come.”

“I fear Ser Jaime may not be strong enough to fight it.” At her crumbling facade, he added quickly as queen or not, he was definitely terrified of her, “When I was at the Citadel, I came across an account of Ser Jaime’s recovery when he lost his hand. I don’t know how much you knew but…” 

In truth, Cersei knew nothing about it because she had refused to talk to him about it, just got him that damned hand to pretend it was still there and got impatient with him when he couldn’t touch her the way she liked it with his left hand before they lay together. Her face must have conveyed everything as Lucas seemed determined to tell her all about it anyway.

“…he lost it defending a maid’s honour, then lived through fever and trying to survive in the most inhumane conditions. It is said that at one point he felt he was fit for nothing and may as well die. Did you know that the barbarians that did it to him made him wear his severed hand around his neck?” Lucas shook his head at the thought of it whilst Cersei struggled not to urge. She had not known that, she fleetingly wondered if her father had known. Or Tyrion. “His arm was rotting by the time he got to Harrenhal and he refused Milk of the Poppy when Qyburn operated to save the rest of his arm. Then fever hit again and he overcame that. Did you know that he also jumped into a bear pit whilst still recovering, my lady? Unarmed! Again to save someone! And then from what I have heard from others, he learnt to fight again with his left hand and fought in the Long Night, on the front lines no less…”

Cersei could stand no more and held her hand up to silence Lucas. She knew from his own words that he had murdered people to get back to her but she had never appreciated what Jaime had really gone through to get back to her; she refused to speak to him about it and she refused to let Qyburn tell her too. And what had she said to Jaime when he came back? 

You took too long.

Her Jaime. He’d gone through and suffered so much and she had told him he had taken too long. And then, what about today? He had come back for her when he had clearly fallen for that Tarth woman. He could’ve stayed safe at Winterfell. And he had almost - could still do so anyway - lost his life for her. She closed her eyes to keep the overwhelming sense of shame at bay. Lucas mistook it for something else.

“I did not impart these words to upset my lady, merely to show you that Ser Jaime is a fighter.” If only he realised how unconvincing he sounded, she silently thought, “He’s done it before so we must hope he can do it again if the need arise…”

“I want to see him,” she blurted out, interrupting him. Instinctively, she held her hand to her mouth at her lack of grace, shut her eyes again and took a steadying breath. “My apologies, Maester Lucas, I should not have spoken like that. Please, may I see my brother?”

“Of course, my lady but I need to see that you are all right first of all, that the babe is ok. With the greatest of respects my lady, you look like you have been in the thick of it today.”

Cersei, on any other day, may have had Lucas shoved in the Black Cells by now, but it wasn’t any other day and so she allowed him his examination of her, allowed him to treat some minor scratches from her and Jaime’s escape from the crypts and once he was satisfied that she and the babe were fine and exacted a promise from her that she would alert him to any change to that, he escorted her back to the captain’s cabin so she could sit with Jaime.

———————————

At the sound of the cabin door opening, Bronn looked up from his vigil besides Jaime and saw Lucas enter the room with Cersei. Sighing, he let go of Jaime’s hand and got up from the chair he was sitting in and offered it to her. As she drew near, he registered the exact moment Cersei had taken the first good look at her brother due to her sharp intake of breath. He watched her as she looked at Jaime, from the small sheet covering him up to the waist, his torso bruised and cut with bandages criss-crossing over it, to his face, cuts stitched where needed and ointments and salves applied.

“He looks so pale.”

“Aye, he does Milady but he breathes yet and he is breathing fine.” Bronn motioned for her to sit in vacated chair.

Cersei hadn’t missed Bronn letting go of Jaime’s hand when she entered, he clearly cared for Jaime. Something else she had missed…Jaime having a friend who wasn’t her. She tried to bite down the jealousy that rose within her at that thought. She sat in offered chair and immediately picked up Jaime’s hand in hers and with her other, smoothed back his hair from his eyes. His hair was so long. Different to the crop he’d adopted when he came home after his imprisonment.

“I’ll check on him in an hour, my lady but I will be just outside if his condition changes.” Lucas and Bronn were almost out of the door when Cersei turned to them, satisfied that Jaime’s hair was no longer in his eyes.

“Maester Lucas?” Lucas turned as Bronn almost walked into him, “Thank you for what you are doing for Jaime.” Lucas blustered a bit and then nodded before turning again, Bronn following him, pulling the door behind him as he went through it. 

“Ser Bronn?”

Bronn poked his head back round the door. “My lady?”

Cersei took a deep breath, both in the fact it was going to take her some time to get used to being called that again and for what she was about to say.

“Won’t you stay as well? I’m sure my brother would appreciate it.”

Bronn blinked twice in amazement but saw no ulterior motive behind Cersei’s request. Moving back into the room, he closed the door on an amazed looking Lucas who he was convinced was looking exactly as he was at that precise moment, and walked back towards Jaime, grabbing a chair as he did so.

“Aye, milady, I dare say he would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other characters going soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and Bronn have a revealing chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, Bronn gets his own warning for his foul mouth. Although Cersei gives him a run for his money at times in this one.
> 
> Lyrics from 'Fever Dreaming' by Of Monsters and Men.

Let me feel it out  
Let it all come out

Bronn and Cersei sat in the stilted silence, watching Jaime’s chest rise and fall with each breath he took. Bronn wasn’t sure if Cersei felt as uncomfortable as him or she was able to block him out with her years of training as an entitled snob. Either way, he focussed on Jaime, watching for any change, ready to alert Lucas if need be. At some point, one of the crew had come in with some watered down wine for them and a light repast. Bronn sat near the foot of the bed and he occasionally glanced toward Cersei. She had not relinquished her grasp of Jaime’s hand and, from time to time, brushed back his hair with the other, touching his face delicately, lovingly as she did so. He found the action more maternal than anything and his brain almost fried at one point when she pulled Jaime’s hand towards her pregnant belly and arranged his hand so it was splayed against it.

Maternal.

Actual siblings.

Twins no less.

Lovers.

Bronn tried and failed to curtail his grimace. That fucking family, he mused again. He was always thinking back to when he was first in the employ of Tyrion. Tyrion when drunk was even more talkative than usual and so Bronn knew very much of what had happened when the three of them were children without the love or presence of their mother, the emotional fuckery of their father and the price the three of them had all paid because of it. Jaime never spoke of it, it was always off limits with the elder Lannister brother but he knew that Jaime had guessed that Brown knew everything through Tyrion. When Bronn was feeling particularly antagonistic, he sometimes baited Jaime, but all he ever got was side eye or a single word of warning from him.

When he was in that inn in Wintertown, waiting for his moment to confront the brothers, he had listened in on them. Watched them. Jaime was behaving like a true knight, saying nothing to dishonour his lady with bawdy talk to his brother. Days before, he had seen Jaime sneak a kiss on Brienne outside the castle walls and watched as Brienne had pushed him away in embarrassment, looking this way and that to see if anyone saw them. Watched Jaime laugh at Brienne’s embarrassment as he drew her closer to him again and took his time kissing her, Brienne obviously kissing him back. He had never seen Jaime like that with Cersei, he was more of a lap dog, standing to attention, waiting for her to give him a morsel, anything. Even at some distance, he could see Jaime was happy - when was the last time he had seen Jaime laugh out loud like that? Never he thought - and he was clearly happy. It suddenly struck him that since he had been in Jaime’s employ, he had never seen him as happy and carefree as he was in Winterfell. He’d never seen him happy and carefree full stop.

Yet no matter that Bronn had told him in that inn that Cersei had sent him to kill the two brothers, Jaime had still gone south to save her. As Tyrion had told him once about Jaime… what an idiot.

“We’re going to Storm’s End.”

So inside his own head, Cersei’s voice startled him, visibly so. He turned to see her looking at him, amusement clear on her face at having surprised him. Gathering his wits, he realised she had said it as a statement not a question. How the fucking hells did she know that? 

“I heard you tell Maester Lucas when he was working on Jaime.”

Ah. So that was how. Fucking thin walls.

“Aye milady. We are.” He watched her for a bit as she processed this information and returned her gaze to Jaime. He surmised she was thinking the same as he did when he was told to take them there if either of them were injured.

“Storm’s End isn’t exactly the place I would have taken a pair of Lannisters given… recent history.” Cersei ventured.

At least they were on the same page there.

“Tell me Ser Bronn, what are Jaime and I? Are we your prisoners? Is this a rescue? I perhaps believed it was at first but now we are heading to Storm’s End, I find that I am not so sure. In fact, what is your part in this? Last time I heard, you were in my employ.”

For all the front she was putting up, Bronn could clearly see the concern written on Cersei’s face.

“Aye, your gr…” Bronn trailed off. It was habit after all.

“Oh for the love of the seven…just address me as you do with my brothers.”

Bronn sucked in a breath, “Well, I usually call just them cunt.”

Cersei looked incredulous. “You call your highborn, titled, employers that?”

“Don’t look so appalled milady, I’ve heard that word come out of your mouth a number of times.”

Cersei bobbed her head in acknowledgement, “Well, yes but…”

“Oh no milady,” he interrupted, “you ain’t possibly gonna say that you can do it but I can’t just cos I’m lowborn.”

Cersei laughed. Bronn’s honesty and candour was refreshing after so many years of sycophants telling her what she wanted to hear and not what she should hear. She could almost begin to appreciate why Tyrion and Jaime kept him around all these years.

“I suppose you’re right.” She paused, suddenly intrigued, “All right then, how did you address me to my brothers?”

Bronn appraised her… he was still reeling from his tirade against her a few hours back. “You really want to know?” She may not have the Mountain with her or Qyburn but the fact remained that Cersei unnerved him.

“Yes.”

Bronn looked abashed. “Well, I uh, usually, well, it… it’s not appropriate to say.”

“Did it have the word cunt in it by any chance?”

He looked at her, she was fucking enjoying this, watching him squirm.

“Oh, don’t look so scared, Ser Bronn, even if you haven’t clarified what my actual status is yet, I am no threat to you as I am now and likely won’t be. Cunt Cersei was it?”

Bronn looked at the floor as if he was asking it to open up and swallow him whole. “No… it was usually ‘that cunt sister of yours’.” He braved a look up from the floor to see how she was taking it.

“Hmmm, well, I’m not sure I am too enamoured with that. You may call me Lady Cersei. And tell that bloody bumbling maester to do the same.’

“That bloody bumbling maester has just saved Jaime’s life.”

Cersei looked down at her and Jaime’s hands, “Yes, you’re quite right. Now back to the beginning, why are we going to Storm’s End, I’m not so sure of a positive welcome there.”

“As of now, you are under my protection, as requested by two lords officially loyal to the new…er... dragon queen. Unofficially, I’m not here, neither is he”, he motioned his head towards Jaime, “and neither are you. Once we get to Storm’s End, that I don’t know. Ser Davos said that the new Lordling will, well, should help you both until you are fit to continue onto the Free Cities.”

“And that was the plan, was it, to take us to the Free Cities?”

“Aye but only if you were both well and uninjured. Ser Davos told me to divert to Storm’s End if either one of you were injured.”

“You do realise that my son ordered every single one of Robert’s bastards to be executed, don’t you? And that I… well, I didn’t stop him. And now one of them is expected to receive us and give us bread and salt?”

Bronn looked appraisingly at Cersei; he was in Tyrion’s pay when the murders took place. Tyrion had said Cersei was behind it, that Joffrey, whilst he possessed the evil to do it, did not possess the intellect to come up with the plan. And whilst Tywin could be capable of many things, mass execution of bastards was not one of them. Cersei on the other hand, possessed the intellect, the motive, and the necessary evil. It was a wake up call. Stay sharp, he told himself, she may have taken a massive metaphorical fall today, but she was still Cersei Lannister, cunt sister of his two friends and she had just lied blatantly and almost convincingly to his face.

“That’s about the gist of it, Lady Cersei.”

Cersei took this in, “And how, Ser Bronn, have you managed to get yourself involved in this plan? Last I heard of you before today was that Qyburn had managed to employ you for the crown as their sell sword to bring two traitors to the crown to justice.”

Bronn shivered as she finished the last sentence, each word chillingly enunciated. Yep, Bronn thought, cunt sister is still there, all right.

Bronn explained to Cersei what had happened when he followed Jaime back down the Kings Road, how he watched him get captured, hoping it would save his life because now he couldn’t go off trying to save her, how he almost throttled Tyrion when he let Jaime escape but was too far away to do anything about it. How he’d then walked into the camp and startled the shit out of Tyrion when he caught up with him, Tyrion recovering from his shock to then drag him half way across the camp to introduce him to Ser Davos. It was clear that Tyrion and Ser Davos had concocted their plan before Bronn was involved. It was Ser Davos that should have been in Bronn’s place now but he couldn’t be in two places at once. Jon Snow had requested him to be with him when the stormed Kings Landing. Bronn walking into camp had solved one of their biggest dilemmas.

“You were never going to kill either of my brothers, were you?”

She had him there.

Bronn smiled ruefully, “No, milady but they certainly didn’t know that when I confronted them both at Wintertown after the Long Night. I bloodied Tyrion’s nose and I’m pretty sure I nearly made pretty boy here shit his pants when I fired that crossbow of your boy’s close to his head.”

Cersei wasn’t sure whether to be appalled, amused or horrified. But then, she reasoned with herself, she had sent him to kill them. 

“I figured that if I came back to tell you I had done your bidding, you were just as likely to have me head than give me the rest of the money owed. And years before, Tyrion had always said if anyone try to buy me off, he’d double it. And sure enough, he’s remembered it.”

Cersei was intrigued. ‘What did he offer you?”

Quick as a flash, “Highgarden.”

Cersei looked at Bronn, incredulous and stunned for a moment and then burst out laughing. After a beat, Bronn joined in.  
They were like that for a minute or so, when Cersei realised something. “Good gods, you’re serious, aren’t you?” She was indeed incredulous.

“Aye, milady. He promised me Highgarden. Him,” he looked toward Jaime, “had been promising me castles for years but always found some shit excuse.”

“Well, Ser Bronn, that was your first mistake. Jaime never had any castles to give, apart from the Rock and despite what he likes to say about not caring for it, it took him years to finally give it up and only then as a temporary strategic move.” She got up and filled two goblets, passing one to Bronn. “But, I think you knew that, didn’t you… that Jaime could never really give you what you craved. Yet you stayed. All these last few years, you stayed. Why is that, do you think? Hmm?”

Bronn glared at her while he took some wine. Oh she was clever, he thought. “Both your brothers pay very well.”

Cersei scoffed and rolled her eyes. “They do pay well, but I don’t think that is the reason is it? You feel protective over him, don’t you? And don’t insult me by telling me you’re protecting your payday. No one in their right mind would ride in front of a dragon to save their employer.”

Fuck she was good. No wonder she had survived the game of thrones for this long. There was no use denying it. 

“And your tirade against me earlier only adds to my conviction.”

She was so fucking good.

“Yer got me, Lady Cersei. Yeah I care about him. And Tyrion.”

Cersei sat back down. She appraised Bronn for a bit then spoke. “Jaime hurt you when he went north without you.”

There was no denying it. “He did.”

“He hurt me too. He’d never disobeyed me like he had when he walked away. I thought he would come back after his sulk. He always came back. But this time… this time he didn’t. He had gone, slipped out of the Red Keep and Kings Landing and no one knew of it until he was well and truly gone. His last parting message was his armour lying on the floor. Jaime was proud to wear his Lannister armour but to see it strewn on the floor like that, his message to me could not have been clearer.” She placed her goblet on the floor and reached for Jaime’s hand again, who was still lying unconscious. She watched him for a bit before she continued, “When I sent Qyburn to you, I was livid. I’d always been livid with Tyrion and Jaime could annoy the seven hells out of me when he wanted to but this was a new kind of livid. I was livid with everyone and I was livid at myself. In the space of two days, I had balked at having Ser Gregor kill both of them. I couldn’t give that final nod; they were still my brothers. But for the first time ever, I truly hated Jaime in the way that I hated Tyrion. How dare he walk away from me, away from the crown, away from the child that grew inside of me…his child. Perhaps if I wasn’t there, I may be able to go through with their deaths. That’s when I sent Qyburn to you. I knew where Jaime was going, he may have been going to Winterfell to fight for the living as he put it, but he was also going to her. I saw the way they looked at each other at the Dragonpit. Oh, Jaime was clever, ignoring her as to not to draw my attention but he forgets that I know him better than he knows himself, knows that he wears all of his emotions on that pretty face of his. I knew that she had loved him but what I didn’t know until that moment was that he had fallen for her too. For the life of me, I couldn’t get why Jaime was so enamoured with her but I get it now; Maester Lucas has given me some insight, not that he knows it. He wasn’t interested in her physically; she gave him the honour that he had always craved since he was 17. I couldn’t give him that, Bronn. You were right, earlier, about what you said about me. I had made Jaime the way he was but she gave him what he wanted to have, what I couldn’t or wouldn’t give him; honour.” Tell me, Bronn, was it her he lost his hand for?”

After a pause, Bronn nodded.

“And this bear pit at Harrenhal, he jumped in to save her then as well.” 

Bronn nodded again. Cersei wrapped her mind around this new information. Even if he didn’t know it at the time, Jaime was half way to loving Brienne of fucking Tarth before he even made it back to Kings Landing and her.

“Did… did you observe them at Winterfell?” She didn’t want to know but she needed to know.

Bronn grimaced, given what she now knew of of the circumstances of Jaime losing his hand and the bear pit, he had hoped this question wouldn’t follow.

“Milady, you’ve had a long and trying day…”

“Just answer me, please.”

Bronn closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath; opening his eyes, he saw Cersei looking straight at him.

“Aye, I did.”

“And? Please Bronn, just tell me.”

He thought back to the day he saw them both outside of Winterfell’s walls. “It was clear that they were lovers, milady.”

Cersei drew in a breath, deeply, nodding her head as she did so, perhaps in acknowledgment of what Bronn had just revealed.

“And did he, ah, look happy?”

He could see what it had cost Cersei to ask that question, it was written plainly on her face. “He did, milady.”

Bronn watched as a lone tear made its way down her cheek. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Cersei brought Jaime’s hand to her mouth and kissed it before rising, leaning over to kiss his forehead. She turned to Bronn. “I fear you may be right Ser Bronn, it has been a long and trying day. I think mayhaps that I will return to the cabin next door. Will you stay and keep vigil over him?”

He realised belatedly that she meant to leave and hastily stood. “Aye, Lady Cersei, I’ll watch over Jaime.”

She gave him a watery smile and before she lost all of her composure, she departed the cabin and entered the smaller one adjacent to it, closing the door quietly behind her.

As Bronn exhaled and sat back down, he could hear her sobbing in the next room. Not for the first time in recent weeks, Bronn wondered why on earth Jaime rode back south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... someone wakes up


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jaime wakes up, Cersei is OOC and Bronn plays it cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everybody who is reading, leaving kudos or is reviewing... it really does make my day. This started off as a fix it just for me so for other people to be enjoying it as well is fantastic. Thanks again.
> 
> They will be getting off the damn boat soon, I promise and more characters will be coming into the story real soon.
> 
> As ever, Bronn's mouth carries its own warning.

The sobbing went on for a while. Bronn felt intrusive listening in to Cersei’s heart breaking but there was nothing to be done about it. The walls were wooden and thin and he had told her he would stay with Jaime. He also wanted to be there with him.

At some point, Bronn had moved to the seat Cersei had occupied and rested his elbows on top of his knees, his hands steepled together against his mouth. He looked at Jaime, willing him to wake up, pleading to the stale air not to let fever take him. ‘Just a few more hours,’ he kept thinking. 'Get him onto dry land and into the keep at Storm’s End and he’ll recover just fine there’. Of course Bronn knew that the chances of fever getting him on dry land was just as high as him getting one at sea but somehow, Bronn just liked Jaime’s chances more at Storm’s End. Provided Davos’ raven got to Gendry of course.

He sat there for a while, occasionally helping himself to the watered wine and some bread when he eventually heard the unmistakable sound of Jaime coming round. He rearranged himself in the chair, one arm casually hooked over the back of the chair and one leg perched on the side of Jaime’s bed and put his best ‘I couldn’t give two shits’ look upon his face. Looking at Jaime, Bronn waited until his eyes opened before speaking.

“Nice to have you back in the land of the living, you jammy cunt.”

Despite the seven hells that was seemingly occupying his body right then, Jaime managed a tight smile. “Bronn.” he croaked in greeting.

“You realise that I’m losing count on how many times I’ve saved your pampered arse now, don’t you? Remember, only I get kill you.”

Jaime tried to nod and roll his eyes but even that small movement was overwhelming. Bronn saw the pain written all over Jaime’s face.

“Aye, well,” he shifted his leg and arm and leaned over towards Jaime, “You’ve just been pulled apart and put back together again by the maester. You’re not quite out of the woods yet, Lannister, as fever might set in but if it doesn’t you won’t be dying from your wounds.” He watched Jaime, trying to shift in the bunk, trying to make himself conformable without disturbing his wounds too much. He watched as Jaime obviously put some weight on the area where Greyjoy had stabbed him in the buttock. Bronn chuckled and Jaime looked over to him. “Pain in the arse, Jaime?” He said with an air of innocence. “Now you know how I feel, when I’m around you.”

He was expecting a comeback not the quiet chuckle from Jaime.

“Greyjoy!” Jaime croaked and then cleared his throat so that he might talk more easily. “Only he would stab someone in the fucking arse.”

Bronn agreed and laughed with Jaime until Jaime started coughing, then choking. “Water.” he managed to ground out between coughs.

Bronn immediate grabbed his own goblet only to realise the only thing in the room was watered wine. He made a beeline for the door, opened it and asked the boy stood out side to fetch some water back before closing the door again. When he was back at the bunk, he lifted Jaime’s head in order to enable him to drink from the goblet. “Water’s on the way but sip this for now, it’s just watered wine. Gentle sips, Jaime.”

Jaime did as he was told and moved his face away when he had had enough. Bronn took the cue and sat back down again. “Cersei?”

“She’s next door resting and is perfectly safe.” He knew that was what Jaime really wanted to know. 

“Are we?”

Bronn startled at Jaime’s curt question and stared back at Jaime’s accusing stare. It took him a moment but Bronn realised that Jaime had a point. He was a sellsword and his last meeting with Jaime had ended with an arrow just shy of Jaime’s head. Bronn maintained eye contact. “Aye, you are. Both of you.” Bronn added an ‘I hope’ in his head. He wasn’t too worried about Jaime. He’d found out from some of Davos’s men that Gendry and Jaime had fought alongside each other at the Battle of the Long Night and there had been a grudging respect between the two afterwards, which was probably more grudging on Gendry’s part considering what Jaime’s son and twin had tried to do… and almost succeeded. Bronn wasn’t worried about Jaime, it was Cersei who may not be getting guest right. Jaime looked at him, trying to figure something out.

“Tyrion? Tyrion get you involved in this? Still holding out for Highgarden?”

He had his moments, the official stupid one of the three Lannister siblings, Bronn had to grant him that.

“Aye on both counts.”

Jaime looked away and back again. “You know she’s mad, Bronn? You must have seen what she’s doing to Kings Landing. I killed her father to stop him from doing that,” Bronn startled a bit at that, cogs starting to purr into life inside his brain but Jaime was continuing, “Tyrion told me to ring the bells which I did to stop the massacre. I heard the bells ring all over the city but she still destroyed it. And kept on destroying it for the sake of it. She’s stopped listening to her Hand, Bronn. She’s stopped listening to Tyrion. You must know you won’t get Highgarden from Daenerys.”

Deep down, Bronn knew this, had always known, even back in Wintertown. And he sure as hells wasn’t going to get it whilst helping the Lannister twins escape.

“I’m sorry Bronn. I mean it.” Bronn looked at Jaime and saw the sincerity in his words. “And Tyrion…” Jaime was struggling to hold back his emotions, “Tyrion knew that by letting me go, he would lose his life. He knew what Daenerys was in the end.” 

Bronn had already figured that part out too. He would be sorry to hear of Tyrion’s execution. He would mourn the man. 

“So why are you helping us?”

The question caught Bronn off guard. Looking up, he saw again the sincerity in Jaime’s eyes. He really didn’t know, though Bronn, But then why would he? Bronn had never given Jaime any indication of how much Jaime and Tyrion had become more than a payday. How did he say this without sounding like a poncy prick? Taking a deep breath, Bronn decided to just come out with it, “because, contrary to what I might tell you about being a cunt, I realise that I’ve…”

He didn’t get to say the rest as the cabin door burst open and whilst Bronn was still trying to react to the noise, Cersei was charging into the cabin, shoving him out of the way and kneeling before Jaime’s bunk, grabbing his hand.

“You’re awake!”

“Nothing wrong with her eyes, is there!” Bronn stating the obvious as he recovered from being shoved aside.

Cersei ignored him as she swept her hand across Jaime’s brow and down his cheek. Bronn noticed that Jaime was leaning away from her touch not into it. “How do you feel, are you hot, no you don’t feel hot, you must say if you feel hot.”

“I’m ok, Cerse. Stop fussing. Please.” He was definitely leaning away now. It was time for Bronn to intervene.

“Why don’t you have a seat milady. This worrying won’t do for the babe, will it now?” He had practically manoeuvred the chair behind Cersei and Jaime, picking up on where Bronn was going with this, was using his one hand to gently push Cersei back. Before she realised it had happened, she was sitting on the chair. Jaime gave Bronn a grateful look, Bronn smirking a ‘you’re welcome’ back at him.

“Now that you are back with us, I’m just going to fetch the maester. He wanted to see you when you woke.” Bronn smirked at Jaime’s ‘don’t leave me’ face and decided to put him out of his misery, “I won’t be long.” he added and left the cabin.

As the door clicked shut, Jaime finally allowed his gaze to fall back on Cersei. She look tired and relieved.

“You’re awake.” She said again, grabbing his hand.

Jaime smiled despite himself, “Yes, sister, we have established that already.”

She laughed, again out of relief, and looked down. Jaime’s eyebrow rose. This was…different Cersei. He didn’t’t know this Cersei. Didn’t know how to handle her. His eyes settled on her midriff.

“How are you? Is the babe alright?”

Cersei looked down at where he was looking and drew her hand back from his and rested it there. She kept looking at her bump. “Yes, the babe is fine and I am fine. Just a few cuts and bruises from our escape and blisters on my hands from rowing.”

Instinctually, Jaime took Cersei’s hand back in his hand and turned it over so he could see the blisters. He suspected that Cersei had never known anything like it. He briefly remembered his blisters when he first picked up a training sword. He traced one of hers with his thumb, gently as to not cause her any pain or discomfort. A smirk grew on his face. Cersei watched him and then watched the smirk grow to his arrogant shit eating grin. She pulled her hand away. “Stop laughing at me brother, I know seeing me with blisters from hard work must be very funny to you.”

Jaime looked at her, his grin disappearing, she wasn’t as angry as she would normally be.

“It’s not just that… you know this was Tyrion’s plan, don’t you?”

“I’d figured it out and then Bronn told me.”

Jaime let that settle for a moment before he continued. He always liked to make sure that Cersei knew whenever Tyrion directly or indirectly supported her to remind her that he was her family. Let her know that Tyrion had this time probably sacrificed his life to save his sister’s.

“Well,” Jaime continued, “I was thinking at how often he proclaimed himself as the cleverest Lannister… and how he stuck his one-handed brother and his spoilt, indulged, never has to lift a finger, sister in a rowing boat in order to escape without stopping to think who was going to row the damned thing!”

Cersei joined in with his laughter. “That did cross my mind several times whilst I was rowing.” She laughed for a bit and then stopped. “Does she know that he helped us?” She knew she wouldn’t have to clarify who the ‘she’ was.

Jaime had stopped laughing now as well. He looked her dead in the eye and nodded. “He knew when he freed me that it would be the death of him.”

Cersei took this in and found that she couldn’t look at him anymore. He watched as the magnitude of Tyrion’s sacrifice seeped into her very pore. He wanted her to know. He wanted her to appreciate it. He wanted her to feel. Above all he wanted her to feel guilt and shame and remorse. “He didn’t just do it for me, Cersei, he did it for you as well.”

She eventually drew her eye back at him and nodded, “I know Jaime, I know!” And the tears flowed again.

Jaime couldn’t do much but hold Cersei’s hand as she cried. He was a little disorientated by her emotion for Tyrion’s sacrifice. He hoped that she was crying for their brother and it wasn’t a show of self pity. He realised that Cersei had lost everything today and being the self centred creature that she was, he wouldn’t put it past her if she was crying for herself and not Tyrion.

He couldn’t muse on it too much. He was bone tired and in a lot of pain. There didn’t seem to be a part of him that didn’t ache or was painful. The initial adrenaline after waking up, realising he was still alive and talking with both Bronn and Cersei had now well and truly worn off. 

The door to the cabin opened and Bronn strolled in with Lucas behind him, his chain clinking as he walked. Cersei quick wiped her tears and stood to allow Lucas to see to Jaime. 

Jaime eyed the maester wearily, appraising the man who had so far saved his life. His initial conclusion was that he looked like an idiot. But then he thought of Pycelle and realised no one could be as bad as him.

“Ah Ser Jaime! Nice to see you back with us!” Lucas proclaimed.

Then again…

**Author's Note:**

> Forgot to mention that some of the lines are nicked from the episode.


End file.
